


Happy New Years

by 0fsilver



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Mercs being Mercs, Not a Happy Story, Sexual Content, Violence, lolix, more of my un beta work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0fsilver/pseuds/0fsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first New Years was spent in Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy New Years

“Well that job didn't go so well.” Felix's arm was heavy over his shoulders. His partner's hair, a wild mess, obscuring his eyes and left only a bruised mouth in sight. Locus could feel Felix breathing against his side. The crackle of shattered ribs stretched by expanding lungs. The way the man swallowed pain was almost poetic. Refused it. Bit it down with a twisting smile instead of tears.

He always knew Felix to be strong against pain. Watched the scout take damage which would have brought any brawler to their knees. Locus steadied the man and tried to remember they were no longer soldiers. They had no reason to maintain their footing. No greater cause for keeping eyes forward while pain held to them like chains, dragging them down with the weight of agony.

“You should stop doing this.” Locus comments, applying a clean compress to Felix's ribs to stop the blood flow. They'd need a doctor to repair the broken ribs, but for now an injection of pain killer and sealing the open wound was as good as they had. Felix almost laughed at the request. A bad idea as bruising would likely keep him from full use of his lungs for a bit. Fingers spasming over Locus' shoulder at the new-found hurt.

“I won didn't I?” Locus wanted to reprimand him. Comment that hustling low-lifes in the dark was hardly something to be proud of. But Felix had a different way of surviving without purpose. “Why do you do it?” Locus' attention lifts from the bloodied belly, his humble medical knowledge able to make his partner comfortable and little else. Felix has a chipped tooth and a burst blood vessel in his right eye barely seen through the mess of overgrown hair. His heartbeat so powerful beneath Locus' hands that it created a pulse. A halo of fluctuating light surrounding them both.

“Do what?”

“Care.”

Certainly wasn't what he expected to hear. Normally, if Felix was even bothering to speak to him, he was accosted with insults or vicious judgments. The sort of one-sided bickering of furious men with nothing left to protect. While Felix was hardly such a noble man Locus could recognize an emptiness in him. One he tried to feed with liquor and underground company. The sort who, when cheated, pierce your ribs with a barbed knife and leave you for dead. Had Locus not gone seeking out his partner-surely Felix would be another forgotten corpse.

“I don't.” It's not far from the truth. Felix's life is expendable and useless as Locus'. Neither of them are living for a reason, merely clawing to survival like parasites desperate for another sunrise.

Once the war was over, and their bodies no longer required to pull triggers and die for a banner neither understood, they failed to live again. They relocated to a city colony. Somewhere busy and easily lost in. A single bedroom where one slept on the floor and the other on a bed with no sheets; trash piling up around them as food was bitter rations left over from the war. Locus could hardly step outside without unraveling into a panicked state, often times running off lost in his own hurt. While Felix was rarely ever home. When he bothered to linger he stepped over Locus' body, collapsed and sickly in the hallway. They ignored one another's plights.   
  
Easier to block out screaming rather than address another burning in hell beside you.

They lived this way for a year. Locus hiding in whatever dark corner of the city he lost himself in. Felix, violent and furiously seeking him out. Dragging him back to their “home” which felt more like a prison on the best of days. Felix, drunk or bruised from the cesspools  lingered. Where he found excitement in furious men and women trying to fuck one another out of a coin. It was by Felix's winnings that they were fed or could afford lights. Graciously keeping them alive with what cash he could scrape off bloodied boots. And all he asked for in return was on rare occasion the chance to squeeze Locus' throat until his pulse felt rapid beneath his palm. Just to watch dark eyes flicker in concern that one of them were bound to die.

Then the next day, it started over again. Felix, finding Locus in some dark alley. Dragging him back by the hair and tossing him down to their sparse floor. He stood over Locus one day and dug a knife into the tile beside his ear. The metal ringing like a song still playing beneath Locus' skin even today. Shaken and sickly Felix asking one simple question:  _Do you think we're going to survive much longer?_

“You care.” Felix corrected, hissing around his pain and heavy eyelids struggled to remain open. Squaring off with Locus from his mess of bangs. “So cute.”

“Why should I care? You're bound to die sooner or later.” It was taboo for them to mention death. Both had agreed to live. To keep going. But so far neither had proven a willingness to do so.

“If I died you'd probably be better off.” Felix was growing agitated, like a cat nearing water. Knowing they were approaching territory he didn't want to face. Locus ignored his complaints, dragged a towel over the man's torso and stepped away. Felix's blood began to dry on his hands and to be honest, he hardly noticed. “Who can say why you don't just snap my neck and get it over with?”

“If you died? What else would I have left?” Locus spoke his thoughts out loud this time. Attention shifting to a commotion outside. He approached the dirty round window, scrubbing it clean with a knuckle to spy the world outside. Billboards lighting up with digital projects of a celebration. The New Year approaching with rapidly dropping numbers. Crowds of some distant party glowing over the screens, cheering for hope of a bloodless year. The first New Year outside of war and the whole of Earth was cheering.

It turned his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Their second New Year, was certainly different.

Gunfire still rang throughout their bodies. Adrenaline bringing hands to shake and lungs stretched in struggle to keep a breath down. Felix had yet to stop smiling from when he leapt into Locus' hold, beat his armored shoulders, and cheered for their work well done.  He'd even laughed at the time, shaking beneath Locus' hands as they took the moment to simply exist in the swelling heat of their surroundings

Bodies covered the floor. Lifeless rag dolls of meat they were sent to destroy simply for their master's call. Neither Locus or Felix gave much weight to underground dealings. They didn't care about king pins or organized crime, smugglers and illegal fences were simply their associates. Devils who offered them a job when they needed it most. And damn. Were they good at it. Even in cheap armor, limited weaponry and little tech to prepare with: they killed them all.

“Holy shit.” Felix clung to his chest plate all the way to a point of safety, waiting for their ride. Locus was silent. Allowing his partner to release short punches, pleading for attention against his ribs. Face broken with his grin. Shivering even. “Holy shit we're so good at /everything/.” He gasped at the realization, as if he hadn't said it three times already. Tossing his arms over Locus' shoulders, clasping the scruff of his neck as they waited in the dark. “Do you feel it? Tell me you feel it?”

It was the New Year in exactly three minutes, fifteen seconds. They were ahead of schedule and would have ten minutes to wait before their company would arrive to extract them from the bloodshed. Twenty minutes before anyone would notice the room of dead bodies. Locus still hadn't removed his helmet, for the best. He didn't remember how to smile and muscles burned from disuse as he mimicked Felix's grin beneath the shield. Somewhere fireworks sounded, celebrating the new year. A richer city, one paid for by the underground and reaped by those in charge. Somewhere men and women, children and families welcomed another year of hope.

“Lo, tell me you can feel that?” Felix pounded his chest. “Your heart's beating again isn't it?”

This time Locus felt no illness from it. Simply bunched his fists against Felix's hips and touched the brow of his helmet to sweaty skin.

“Yes.”

* * *

  
  


They spent one New Years hiding from pirates on a frozen wasteland after a mission had gone wrong. There they shared a first kiss. Welcoming the new year with bodies rutting together for warmth and the determination to survive. A promise made within ice and red seeping through the snow.

Another was spent, stretched beneath a brilliant sun and one another. Tongues swollen from strong drinks and the clash of their teeth. Felix waxing poetry of their talents while riding Locus's hips deeper into their bed of sheets and scattered cash in celebration. A paradise they borrowed, held hands and played locals. Played human for a bit before they grew restless and together, grinning, torn off into the gunfire.

Locus' favorite was their time, aimless and silent in space. Unsure of the date while they shared in cheap liquor stored away on their ship. No jobs, no distractions. Their armor hung secure on a far steel wardrobe while Felix sang drunken tunes and held to Locus' shoulder. Kissed his cheek and combed fingers through grown out hair.

“Happy New Year.” He whispered and feel asleep curled into Locus' ribs, kicking at playful dreams and snoring lightly in the silence.

  
  


* * *

 

Their last New Years Locus was overseeing engineers while Felix was a world away playing the hero.

One last job.

 

* * *

  
  


This New Year Locus finds himself unable to gather warmth in the humble bed he shares with his own memories. Turning in the dark, restless as a foreign pain begins to ache in his very bones. Eyes bleary when a commotion alerts him to the events partaking outside. Crowds counting down the new season, a new year of hope. Rebirth and a second chance...How he could forget the date?

Fireworks light his room and the empty space in the bed beside him.  
  
It turned his stomach.

 

 


End file.
